


A Crisis of Confidence

by CVH14



Series: The Early Days [3]
Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith, Strike (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:21:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29222358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CVH14/pseuds/CVH14
Summary: Robin questions her value to the agency. Strike is not impressed.
Relationships: Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike
Series: The Early Days [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2083899
Comments: 28
Kudos: 56





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My longest fic so far - eek!!  
> With huge thanks to the fabulous @LulaIsAKitten, for helping me revive this fic with her lovely advice and encouragement. 
> 
> (And I don't know how to add warnings about swearing. But as we're in Strikeland here, I assume you're all ok with it.)

It was six o’clock on a Friday evening, and Strike sat at his desk rubbing his eyes after a long, difficult meeting with a client. He was tired and tense, and his thoughts were turning to The Tottenham and a most welcome pint in Robin’s easy company. As though conjured by his thoughts, she appeared by the door and cleared her throat. He looked up. 

‘Can we have a quick chat?’

‘Sure. Is everyone gone?’ 

‘Yeah. Just paid the subcontractors. We’re all done for the week.’

He rolled his shoulder, a loud and satisfying crack cutting through the room. ‘Perfect. A whole weekend to ourselves.’ He gave her his best cheeky smile. ‘C’mere.’

They had been a couple for over two months, and he still felt giddy to think he could kiss her whenever he wanted. Or whenever the working day was done, to be more precise, according to their self-imposed rules. But still. 

She hesitated, attempted to smile and failed. ‘Well, I have a question for you...’ 

‘Yes?’

‘Why did you offer me partnership? For the agency, I mean…’ 

He stared at her. ‘What? Why do you ask?’

Robin avoided his eyes. ‘Well, on my birthday you said you had feelings for me for a long time… And I need to know why you offered me partnership.’ She sounded like she was forcing herself to sound firm. This conversation had clearly been rehearsed in her head, and that worried him. 

‘Robin, I offered you partnership because you made the agency what it is now. You are a brilliant detective. Why this now?’

She crossed her arms and tensed her jaw, her eyes still anywhere but on him. The conversation was not going as rehearsed, then. ‘Martin and Matthew had an argument last weekend in our local pub in Masham. They bumped into each other there, they have friends in common, and uh…during their conversation it came up that…we are together now. Matthew repeated, for the whole pub to hear, what he always used to say to me: that you promoted me to get into my pants.’ 

‘Twat.’

‘Yeah.’ She sighed. ‘Martin broke his nose for that, and I am glad, but now I can’t help wondering...’

‘If Matthew is right?’

‘Well, now I feel like I lost that argument.’ Her small laugh came out as a grimace. 

Strike sat still, open mouthed. ‘So, what does that mean? You…you agree with Matthew now?’

‘No, it’s not that I agree.’ She huffed. ‘But it does look this way, doesn’t it?’

‘I don’t care how it looks. He can think whatever he wants.’ Strike paused. ‘ _You _don’t really think that, do you?’__

__She walked to her desk across his and sat down in silence._ _

__He leaned over his desk. ‘Robin. I told you before that I admired you as a detective, as a co-worker first. I fell for you way after that. With time. You helped me solve the Lula Landry case and I liked working with you. You know now how rare this is for me. You’ve proven yourself over and over again here. I don’t understand why this is coming back now…’_ _

__‘Oh, come on Strike.’ She huffed. ‘You can understand why I would question things a bit now, after you said you liked me for so long. Why wouldn’t I? Now I am not sure if I am indeed a good detective or if you just…wanted me around.’_ _

__Strike gritted his teeth. ‘So, what you’re saying is that you don’t trust my professional judgement, is that it? Or you prefer Matthew’s, who saw you as what? “A pair of walking tits.” Your words, not mine.’ He could hear himself getting louder by every word he said and paused, rubbing his stubble roughly and taking a deep breath._ _

__Robin seemed to have shrunken, sitting in silence by her desk. The sight disturbed him, and he felt the need to continue. He made an effort to keep his voice levelled. ‘Robin, listen to me. I hired and promoted you _despite _being attracted to you, not _because _of it. Don’t forget you were engaged then; I saw danger in being close to you, but thought you were an amazing asset to this agency. I couldn’t lose you as a professional because of whatever I could maybe feel for you one day. I chose the business over myself.’_____ _

______She looked at him through narrowed eyes. ‘So you were attracted to me already! So in some subconscious level...’_ _ _ _ _ _

______‘No!’, he roared, the frustration washing over him. ‘Don’t twist my words, don’t analyse me. That’s Matthew in your head. This is the venom he used on you for years, and now you’re regurgitating this on me! Can you listen to yourself? How this is beneath you? I love you. And I love working with you. Both are true.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______She sighed heavily, and looking out the window, said almost in a whisper, ‘I was thinking about applying for the Met. Vanessa said Wardle could give me a reference.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______The statement winded Strike. He sat back down in silence, staring at Robin in disbelief. So he would never have it all. Got the girl, lost his partner. And his business too, probably, in due course, without her._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘Cormoran,’ she called after some time, gently pulling him from the dark tunnel he was in. ‘Say something.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______He rested his head on the back of his chair and looked up to the ceiling. ‘What do you want me to say, Robin? That I gave away half of my business, all that I had left after losing a fucking leg and my military career, because I wanted to get into some random girl’s pants?’ From the corner of his eyes, he saw she bristled at this, but ignored her. ‘That I threw it all away for a shag?’_ _ _ _ _ _

______He shook his head, stood up and grabbed his cigarettes and wallet from his desk, but paused to look at her. This time, she didn’t look away. ‘Do you think this lowly of yourself, Robin? Do you think this lowly of me?’, he hissed._ _ _ _ _ _

______She flinched, but as he walked away from her, she reached for his arm. ‘Please stay. I haven’t made a decision yet.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______He yanked his arm away. ‘Lock the office door when you leave.’_ _ _ _ _ _


	2. Chapter 2

Robin’s weekend so far had been miserable. She had sat at her desk for about an hour after Strike had stormed off on Friday, thinking about how badly she had fucked up that conversation and how she could possibly make him understand how she felt. It wasn’t only that everyone thought she did not deserve that job; the problem was that sometimes she agreed with them. 

Strike wasn’t in touch at all on Saturday. Later on Friday evening he texted her a simple, ‘Please let me know once you get safely back home’. No signing, definitely no kisses. She replied with a ‘I’m home. Please call me once you’re ok for us to talk some more. Maybe come over tomorrow? I love you.’ The last she had heard of him was his grumble of a text ‘Will do. I love you too.’ He never called back, which meant he was still furious. Today would be fun. 

It was now Sunday morning, and Robin stood on the top of the stairs on Denmark Street with a bag of pastries, a tray with coffees and a wildly beating heart. She knocked on Strike’s door with a shaking hand, and waited. She heard him moving slowly through the flat after a few moments, the noise of the bathroom flush. She had woken him up. Great, she’d get the full power of his morning grump. 

He opened the door, his leg off and his hair ruffled. 

‘Hey. Sorry for waking you up.’ She tried to smile. ‘Can we talk? I brought breakfast.’ 

‘Come in.’ He sounded awful, his voice croaky from too many cigarettes, she assumed. 

She walked straight to the kitchen, pulling plates and setting up his tiny table with the food she brought. He watched her in silence from the door until she was done, then hopped to sit across from her. He wouldn’t speak first, then. She took a deep breath. 

‘I am sorry. Sorry for saying I was thinking of leaving like that, without warning. I took you by surprise.’ 

He took a sip of his coffee and looked up. ‘You think?’

‘You’re still angry with me.’

‘Not angry.’

Her eyebrows shot up. ‘Really? Looks like it.’

He looked unimpressed, and she changed tack. ‘Hear me out. I spoke to Van when I was upset about it. But, at that event the other day, when they introduced us… You have your years with the SIB to commend you, they had nothing to say about me. Sam, Andy and Michelle all have formal Army or Police training. So…I was thinking. And I’d like to go back to study, finish my degree.’ His face fell, and she raised both her hands to stop him from interrupting, even though he didn’t look ready to speak at all. ‘I looked into it quickly yesterday, and I think if a London university accepts me, I could take the missing credits part-time… I haven’t got any details yet, but I think I can manage both the work here and my studies. I need it.’

‘Right.’

She leaned towards him. ‘I don’t want to throw us away. I don’t want to throw the agency away, our work. But this self-doubt… Sometimes I feel I went from under Matthew’s shadow straight to yours.’ At this, Strike looked away. She touched his arm. ‘Look at me. Please tell me what you’re thinking, too. You can’t give me the silent treatment for feeling a bit insecure, Strike.’

The use of his surname seemed to have finally shifted his balance. He tried to get up, forgetting he didn’t have his prosthesis on, and huffed in frustration. 

‘Fuck, Robin. You make me sound like a grumpy teenager.’ He ruffled his own hair, the curls getting even wilder than they already were, and she waited. ‘I’m not angry with you. I am disappointed.’

She rolled her eyes. ‘Now you’re the one treating me like a teenager. My parents used that line on me as well.’ She sat back and crossed her arms. 

‘Robin, what you said on Friday is appalling. I fell for you because you’re a fighter. The world showed you its worst, and you still believe in people, you still fight for them. Your kindness, your empathy… I got to see all this by working alongside you. And you reduced yourself to an object I coveted. I couldn’t listen to that nonsense.’

She frowned. That was actually nice. She had come ready for a bigger fight. And he must have sensed her confusion, because he was looking at her with that intense look he had when he was working on a case. She wasn’t sure she liked being on the other end of such scrutiny. ‘What?’ 

‘Why didn’t you shout back at me on Friday?’ 

She shrugged. ‘I don’t like shouting matches, thank you very much.’

‘Rubbish. We’ve had a couple of those before we got together.’ 

She startled at that. He was right. 

‘What’s different now, Robin? We were equals then, we are equals now. I was unreasonable on Friday. And rude. You need to call me on my bullshit, just like before.’

She looked away, unable to hold his eyes any longer, and behind him there were folders spread everywhere. She hadn’t noticed them when she got in. ‘What’s this? Old cases?’

‘Yeah.’ He chose a pastry on the plate between them and stuffed half of it in his mouth. 

‘Hmm.’ She picked a corner of a pain au chocolat. ‘Guess we do need to start packing.’

‘I wasn’t packing. Look at the ones on the sofa.’ He nodded over his shoulder at a pile of files balancing precariously just behind him. She frowned, and he insisted. ‘Go on.’ 

Intrigued, she got up and walked around the table. She sat on the tiny battered sofa and started perusing through his selection. They were reports of past cases, but some bits were now highlighted in luminous green: she recognised interviews she had conducted, people she alone had persuaded to talk. She had been proud of each one of them. 

‘Look at the pile on the floor as well, please’, he said. 

This time, cases she had solved, getting that final piece of evidence, or having the insight that led to its resolution. She didn’t realise he had been closely watching her until she reached the last piece of paper on the bottom of the pile and he spoke again. 

‘I’ve only managed to pay this off because of you. Without this, who knows where I’d be now.’ 

The document outlining the terms of Rokeby’s loan for Cormoran to open the agency was in her hands. She remembered sending the cheques, not long after the Landry case was solved. 

‘Why is all this here, Cormoran?’ She was trying to contain her tears, but her unsteady voice betrayed her. She didn’t turn around to look at him. 

‘I was preparing to make my case.’

She let out a little wet laugh. ‘Which is?’

‘No you, no agency. We’ve built this together, love.’

She sniffed and wiped her cheek with the back of her hand. ‘Okay.’

‘After the Bamborough case, I really didn’t see this coming,’ he said softly. ‘You feeling so insecure took me by surprise. You were applauded everywhere then, even the team’s attitude towards you changed.’

She looked at him sideways at that, eyebrows raised.

‘I did notice’, he said, his arms up in the air in surrender. ‘I noticed the difference, no one talks over you anymore. Mind you’, he smirked. ‘Morris was dispatched a while ago now.’

She chuckled. ‘And I did that in style.’

‘You did. Though I wouldn’t advise making it our standard procedure for sacking employees.’

‘Shame. I was thinking of adding nose breaking to the agency’s guidelines.’ She got up from the sofa and stood just behind him, crossing her arms over his chest and kissing the top of his head, his curls tickling her nose. He leaned against her, sighing contently. 

‘We really did build something good together, haven’t we?’ She asked. ‘We’ve helped people.’

‘We have.’ He covered her hands with his. ‘But I also understand your need to finish your degree. We’ll work around it.’ 

‘We will.’

They were in silence for a few moments, leaning against each other, until Strike spoke again, his tone sleepy. ‘Though it’s a shame all this came up because of that twat of your ex-husband.’

‘Oh well. He had to have some use after all the crap I went through.’

‘Did Martin really break his nose?’

She chuckled. ‘Yes. I wish I were there to see it.’

‘Good man. Just like his sister.’ He yawned. ‘I’ll need a play-by-play. I want to hear all the details.’

‘You can ask Martin when you see him.’ She tapped him on the chest. ‘Come on. You sound like you haven’t slept much. Me neither. Let’s go to bed.’ 

‘Yes, boss.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who left kudos or comments! Much appreciated!! x


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